Proxima
by Freyjaonline
Summary: Fill for kink meme. Twinsheps that rise in ranks together, always sharing rooms. Few know that they are intimate except maybe Garrus and Wrex. Wrex not caring and Garrus...upset then intrigued. All mistakes are mine, my beta has a life. Bioware owns the ME franchise, not my imagination. Currently undergoing an extensive rewrite will update frequently. Critiques are welcomed.
1. Revelations

Anderson is faced with a conundrum as he stares at the files on his data-pad.

When Hackett told him he'd get to hand pick the crew for the Normandy he'd had his sights set on one marine in particular.

Commander Shepard A. D.

The marine had been in his sights since Akuze and he still wanted him.

That isn't the issue.

What is staring him in the face is that Alliance Command has made a mistake.

It has to be a damn mistake.

He's faced with two Shepard, A.D.

Shepard, Aiden Declan, Commander. Mother: Shepard, Hannah., Captain of the SSV Orizaba. Father: Mother refused to disclose. DOB: 4/11/2154. POB: Bethesda Alliance Command Med. Center. Definitely a spacer given his mother's career.

Shepard, Adan Daron, Commander. Father: Shepard, Devaun A., Captain of the SSV Hastings, Anderson's former posting. Mother: Father refused to disclose. DOB: 4/11/2154. POB: Bethesda Alliance Command Med. Center. She is both a spacer and colony kid; given her father's postings and notable career.

Each ghosting one another through their careers, even in the same commands and he has a strong feeling that Hackett is laughing at him.

Laughing his ass off over two fingers of Glenfiddich neat, rubbing that damn beard of his.

For a third time he scans the files looking up at him on the small screen.

He shakes his head in futile denial.

"No, this can't be possible. Hackett had to have known. He could not have _not_ known."

No amount of denial on his part can refute the fact.

He already knows the answer, that smug bastard was well aware of the situation and didn't think to give him the courtesy of a heads up.

His hand goes to a drawer retrieving the glass and familiar bottle.

Two fingers of amber liquid fills his nose with the scent of honey and it tastes as good as it smells when he takes a deep swallow.

With a shake of his head he transfers each individual file to separate data-pads along with the few snapshots that each officer have in common.

Their careers move in tandem, no not in tandem, they've ghosted one another.

Serving on the same ships, within the same commands yet no one had made the connection, yet he can and realizes that only someone high within their command could have made this happen.

They'd both been forged in fired by the sole incident that separates them, the missions that have made them famous.

Shepard male on Akuze; sole survivor of that mission and much to Anderson's surprise Shepard female is the infamous Butcher of Torfan.

Even their personalities are entirely diametrically opposed as well.

He is a diplomat, clearly at ease when it came to politicians.

His file is filled with pictures of him rubbing shoulders with nearly most of the top Alliance brass and a few notable members of Earth's Parliament.

Whereas she...well the last time she'd dealt with Counselor Udina.

A quick scan of a report filled with black outs reveals that the man had required surgery to repair the teeth she'd broken when she'd shoved her Predator into his mouth.

He runs a hand over his face in resignation before emptying the glass.

He can't deny the postings as Hackett had handpicked the female and he the male.

Closing their service records, he studies the pictures that accompany their service records.

But for the scars: one that cuts through the left eyebrow and another beneath the woman's lower lip, they are identical twins.

How?

How had anyone missed this?

No one had missed it, it had been cleverly hidden.

He makes the postings, assigning the male as his XO and the female as the S1.

He'll make this work, somehow.

He is still studying the pictures when the door to his office opens.

He glances up to see the two Marines striding in, engaged in conversation, laughing and joking as they bump shoulders.

The man's buzzed hair is a dark red shadow over his scalp and her's a deep reddish auburn secured in a high ponytail that falls into loose waves that disappear behind her shoulders.

"So you want to tell me about that new modification you made for warp ammo?"

She asks, her silver eyes shifting to an aqua that sparkled with mirth.

He shakes his head, his own grayish green eyes are crinkled at the corners as he smiles.

"Sure when you explain to me how you…"

His reply is cut off when he is lifted then hovered across the space between the door and Anderson's desk.

It's when she turns that Anderson notices that the damn Marine's hair is definitely not within regulations and he wonders where the hell she puts it in uniform.

"Captain Anderson, Shepard and Shepard reporting, sir," she offers as she sets the man down.

Her long legs eats up the distance between door and desk, together, perfectly synchronized they snap off a salute, dropping it when he drops his own.

"Have a seat," he nods toward the grouping of chairs that are on the balcony, remaining at their backs.

They even move alike; efficient moves that radiate contained energy.

When they drop into the chairs their posture is identical.

"Fuck. You. Hackett." He murmurs with a shake of his head.

If they didn't know then he'd keep his damn mouth shut.

He briefs the two on their positions and responsibilities, keeping it under wraps that the posting is really an evaluation.

They are potential Spectre candidates and this shakedown is the easiest way to get them both evaluated quickly.

He places them on seventy-two hours shore leave with a call back time of 0600 hrs.

Alone, with only his thoughts, he pours himself another glass, taking a minute to sort out his thoughts.

His musings on the situation only serve to piss him off more.

Sipping at his drink he composes an email to Hackett cursing him for the situation, once his ire is sated he deletes it, then sends an edited version emphasizing that he knows.


	2. Reunion

Once they are away from the Embassies, their entire demeanor changes, her hand dips into the back pocket of his jeans, cupping his ass.

He at least waits until they are on the lift before slamming her against the glass.

His mouth comes down hard on hers and he smiles with the thought that it will be swollen later as she kisses him back with as much force; if not more.

He grabs her thighs, lifting her up to get rid of the slight height difference.

He growls as she bites down on his lower lip then moans when she draws it into her mouth.

Her muscular thighs pull him tighter as she leaves his mouth and runs her lips over the stubble of his scalp.

"I've missed you," he sighs into her shoulder.

"You've been on the Citadel for three weeks and you couldn't come see me?" He asks as he meets her eyes noting they've shifted to a nearly translucent green indicating her state of arousal.

She kisses him again, slower this time before answering.

"I was too busy trying to stay out of the brig? Using a mission to extract personal revenge for a friend…even the Alliance frowns upon that bit," she says airily.

He tightens his arm around her waist, earning a squeak from her before he lets her down, "Are you hungry?"

She sinks her teeth into his nipple through his shirt.

"Food, Adan, are you hungry for …."he gasps through the pain.

He is silenced when she shoves him against the door, a hand at his zipper while the other hits the stop button of the elevator just as she swallows him.

"People will see us," he protests before his head falls back making a ringing thud as it hit the doors.

"Wow, still shy, Declan?" Her breath is so damn hot on him.

"We're more than a hundred stories up. No one looks up this high," she smiles against him.

His reply dies on his lips when she returns to her ministration and put her hands in motion as well.

His earlier protests are forgotten as he begins fucking her mouth in earnest.

He tears the thin elastic from her hair, fisting it to guide her.

"Close," he groaned.

_Shit_ he thinks as she pulls his balls down; halting his climax and restarts the elevator.

"You have to be fucking kidding me," he moans as she slows down to match the leisurely pace of the elevator, then speeds up as the elevator announces their impending arrival.

"We're going to get caught," he tries to push her away.

She hums around his length and pulls away just enough to answer.

"Then shut the fuck up and come, DeClan."

He obliges her.

Slamming down her throat while she laughs around him, finally releasing his nuts as the elevator jerks once before settling.

It is on the final ding, it's hiss matches his own as he empties himself down her throat, eventually filling her mouth.

He watches as her cheeks puff and his seed emerges to ghost down her chin.

Standing, she he closes his jeans and cards a hand through her tangles hair before using a finger to catch the overage.

He shakes his head as she sashays out the elevator, cleaning her lips and finger nonchalantly as if nothing has happened.

"Damn, I've missed that woman," he says to no one in particular, jogging to catch up with her with a grin on his lips.

They end up at a café down on one of the lower wards.

He orders steak, rice pilaf, asparagus with a glass of pinot noir; she a huge greasy double cheeseburger with bacon, onions and mushrooms, an order of nacho fries and a double old fashioned chocolate cherry milk shake.

They are definitely the odd couple.

He with his delicate, five star manners and her with grease, juice and melted cheese from the burger running down her wrists.

She demolishes in a short time, especially considering that the burger is a five pound monster all the while shoving fries in her mouth between gulps of the shake.

She has finished her entire meal and is indulging in the café's crème brûlée by the time he'd finishes his own meal.

"I see you still have those prissy manners. How the hell can you enjoy your food when you have to take so long to get to it?" She fusses as she collects the last of the dessert from the ramekin with her finger.

"I enjoy it the same way you enjoyed your liquid diet on the elevator, by letting the flavor sit on my tongue, instead of muddling around in my mouth," he answers while cleaning his mouth with the napkin he'd folded in his lap earlier.

"I'll remember not to muddle your delicate tongue in the future," she answers dryly.

He pays for their meal and is rising from the table when what she said struck him.

"What do you mean by that?" He knows she never makes idle threats; ever, as he hauls her up by her wrist.

She ignores the tightening of his hand and walks away, ultimately dragging him with her.

The Citadel is well into the night cycle and the slight breeze lifts her hair into a banner that trails behind her and into his face.

"Adan, what did you mean by that?" He repeats, releasing her wrist when she rotates it slowly, a subtle warning.

"Nothing at all," she deftly changes the subject, "So how is she doing?"

He's stopped in his tracks.

In their years together, since they'd found out a little too late that they were related; twins to be exact, she's never once asked about their mother.

"She was worried, about Akuze…" he starts then stops.

There it is; her eyes tighten at the corners, it's the slightest indication that it bothers her-that she believes their mother doesn't care about her.

He lifts her chin and plants a soft kiss on her lips, "And Torfan. She even mentioned that he did a hell of a job with you. Well, your biotics to be exact."

He decides to push the issue.

"Haven't you ever wanted to know why she took me instead?" He follows her gaze across the still lake.

He smiles as she rolls her shoulders before tossing her hair back and he really wants to tell her that, that movement is something that their mother does as well.

"No, I needed to be with dad. I know my biotics scare her. She'd always hoped that ... she didn't want a biotic child. I just think she should have considered that before popping her knees for the Berserker," her voice is light but the look in her eyes say otherwise.

She leans into him, a hand going to his ass; "Let's continue this somewhere else, like at my place, naked?"

Her eyes close as he runs a hand over her cheek, thumb stroking across her lower lip.

He can't stop the hiss that escapes him as she nips the pad of skin.

"Can I get a rain check? If I go home with you tonight…."he says quietly.

She nods, "I'll take that as a compliment and I know; it's always work first play later with you. Know this, If I don't see you tomorrow night, then don't expect to see me on the third."

He receives no kiss.

It's punishment for declining tonight - at least that is his thought until the familiar scent of burnt eezo envelopes him as he's lifted and dragged to her.

She catches him with her lips saying, "I always keep my promises."

She releases him on the step below breaking the kiss.

"Which promise would that be?" He asks lacing his hands behind his back.

He knows if he touches her it will be all over, he won't stop and they'll end up in bed tonight, tomorrow and the next.

"Always kiss me good night, remember?" She winks at him then disappears up the stairs, leaving him with a smile so big he feel as if his face will crack.


	3. The games we play

She's not the least surprised that she doesn't see him until they are on the Normandy when Anderson gives them the tour.

Anderson admits to himself that the two work well together.

Their efficiency surprises him, each providing concise reports, fitreps and evaluations of the ship and crew within a day of their postings.

Much to his relief; Anderson is left alone as his XO handles issues among the crew with such ruthless efficiency they never make it to Anderson.

Well, that's what he believes until Declan, as he requested to be called, corners him in his cabin.

"Anderson, unless you want a footless XO, we are going to have to do something about the bunk beds," the man laughs as he runs a hand over his skull.

"Commander there is nothing wrong with the bunk beds, they are standard issue on all ships, the only difference is that they are of Turian design."

Anderson answers without looking up at the man before continuing.

"Besides there was one bed, as well as one desk before I was delivered two Shepards. Nothing I can do about it now."

When he looks up the Commander is gone.

Down on the crew deck Declan finds his counterpart engaged in a conversation with the second biotic of their crew, Major Kaidan Alenko.

She waves him over as she asks, "So how was BaAT?"

She acknowledges his presence with a nod as she continues her conversation with Alenko, who is rubbing a hand across the back of his neck before he answers.

"Hard, definitely doesn't live up to the fancy brochures they sent to our parents, not to mention…" he smiles nervously.

"Yeah I'd heard rumors that the teachers weren't …" she points at him then herself, "they weren't us."

Declan can't help but notice that the biotic's eyes light up when she puts the two of them together.

_I need to break this shit up real quick_, he thinks to himself.

"Commander, I wasn't aware that you went to any Alliance program for your biotics," he says questioningly, watching as Kaidan's brows go up.

She chuckles, leading both men to the table where Declan immediately takes the chair next to her, leaving Alenko to sit across from them.

The arrangement doesn't present a problem to the officer as he seems content given the way he meets her eyes before relaxing back into the chair.

She pulls her hair from the tight braid, scratching her scalp for several minutes before flipping the hair from her eyes.

"No, I didn't need to go to BaAT or any of the other programs. I have the best biotic trainer out there, my dad."

She pauses long enough to braid her hair back up and Alenko fills the gap.

"Your dad, is he one of the trainers at BaAT or Jump Zero?" Alenko asks.

"Nope my dad's the_ Berserker_," she smiles, her eyes warm with affection.

Kaidan grabs her hand then remembers where they are and jerks his hand away.

"I'm sorry. I got a bit excited there. Are you serious, you dad's the _Biotic Berserker?_ Your dad's the man who can pull a charge without the tell tale flare? The biotic that … that doesn't need modded warp ammo because he can warp it himself. Your dad's…"

She smiles.

"Yeah he's all that and more, but I think he's stop carrying a weapon. He's advanced-well devolved back into some old habits. He flat lines his enemies now. Well, he used to before they gave him Anderson's old post."

Both he and Kaidan have to actively close their mouths.

"Flat line?" Declan asks hesitantly.

She nods her head, "Yeah, flat line. He shuts down his enemy's heart."

We both shake our heads as we say, "Biotics can't do that!"

She shakes her head and shrugs.

"Why not, the body is an electrical powerhouse. We biotics use charged eezo, which is just an advance form of electricity. If you know where the current starts and stops; you can kill the circuit."

Kaidan sits back in his chair, arms crossing as his brow furrows and she looks over at DeClan stating;

"I haven't gotten that far yet, I just picked up my first A&P book last week."

She rises from the table and leaves the two of them sitting in silence until Kaidan speaks.

"About how long do you think it will take her to figure that out?"

When their eyes meet, he receives a grim stare as DeClan replies.

"Do we really want the _Butcher_ to know that is a better question."

He finds her on the bridge looking over Joker's shoulder as he completes a jump.

The Spectre is standing alongside of her.

As she looks over her shoulder, he jerks his head and signs for her to meet him in the cargo bay.

She's barely past the Mako when he's drags her between a stack of crates, lifting her onto one before pulling open her BDU over shirt.

"So tell me about the Turian?"

"Do you really want to know?" Is her reply as the wide belt is removed and quick fingers undo the buttons of her cargos.

He tugs off her boots, dragging the pants down her legs before throwing her knees over his shoulders.

"He doesn't think I muddle his tongue," she remarks casually right before he puts his mouth to her.

A laugh bubbles from her lips when his mouth presses into a hard line.

"We haven't been on the ship for a month and you've already done the Spectre? Where, when?"

She stretches and the bottom of the tee shirt lifts to reveal a trio of healing talon marks along her waist.

"I could ask the same of you," she sighs; "your navigator is a blabber mouth. She goes on and on about how big you are. Sighing and cooing about how gentle and considerate you are. How many times you ma ..."

He shuts her up by slamming into her, well it doesn't shut her up but it does stop the current dialogue.

He finds her still slick; wet with the Turian's spend.

It both anger and turns him on causing him to swell thicker inside her.

She bites down on his thumb as she convulses around him and he yanks his hand away.

He's really tired of explaining the cuts and marks she inflicts to Chakwas.

"Did he make you come this fast?" He growls as he tilts her hips upward, narrowing her sheath around him.

She nods, laughing through her release, "Nearly a dozen times before he finally fucked me. You gonna keep score now?"

"Slut," he laughs as she comes again drawing her lower lip between her teeth to muffle her cries.

She wraps her legs around his waist and locks her arms around his neck as she sits up and rides him down to the floor.

She cushions the impact by flaring her biotics to trip a miniature lightening storm across his skin that nearly pushes him over the edge.

"You kiss your mother with that mouth, Commander? FYI, I've only slept with three men. You, the Turian and the other is really none of your business. So how is your navigator? Is she vocal?" Her voice hard.

He shakes his head, he's throbbing within her, but he won't release.

"Come on, tell me. Did you come or did you fake it? You promised to hold it," she whispers into his ear.

"Faked it," he grits out between clenched teeth, earning a smile as she presses on.

"So did you know that sparring is foreplay to Turians?"

He bangs his head against the floor.

"Hate you, hate you, hate you!" Is the mantra that leaves his lips while she continues talking.

"Turians don't give head either, it's something about the teeth. Speaking of tongue. His not yours; isn't like ours; it's like a cat's tongue but so much longer and agile."

She grinds herself against him; laughing.

"Adan, I really don't give a shit about that right now. Why don't you just shut the fuck up."

He moans as she tightens herself around him, planting her feet alongside his thighs to lift herself so she can glide up and down his length.

His hands go to her waist to hold her to him as he strokes against her g-spot and grinds her clit into the wiry hair at his groin.

Her head goes back as her breath becomes panting moans and her biotics crackle against him.

He smirks as she continues the pace he's set and he strokes across the engorged bud at her center.

"Are you close?" He asks.

But he already knows that she is.

He's been watching the tell-tale flush that blooms up her neck to color her cheeks but hasn't quite reached the shell of her ears.

She nods, attempting to increase their pace but he holds her still as he delivers several hard thrusts before lifting her off him.

"Great but I've got a meeting with Anderson in…" he smiles as his omni-tool beeps, "5 minutes so I need you to hold that thought."

He sets her on the cold metal floor before he gets up, closes his trousers, and readjust his tunic.

He leaves her, naked on the floor with her mouth wide before her eyes narrow.

He is nearly onto the lift when a toss flings him into the far wall as the door closes behind him.

He can hear her swearing once the ringing in his ears stop from his head hitting the dense metal.


	4. While you were sleeping

She avoids him for the rest of the week and he's both pissed and intrigued that whenever she disappears; the Turian is MIA as well.

Even in their cabin she's distant.

She's back in the top bunk now or hitting the hot sleepers if he's too persistent.

If she's talking to Alenko and he turns up, she ends the conversation and disappears.

The rest of the crew never picks up on the animosity because if they haven't learn anything since the last time they were stationed together-it's how to keep their personal shit personal.

When she finally returns to his bed, it's the night after Anderson tells them they'll be making a jump to Eden Prime.

"I've got a bad feeling about this one," she whispers into his neck.

He does as well.

It's a feeling he's had for the last three days and he's sure she's had it just as long, too.

He strokes her hair as he turns to meet her eyes, "Yeah, me too."

He kisses her softly trying to pull her into him.

She resists for a few brief seconds and then gives in when he puts his lips to her neck, nipping and mouthing the sensitive skin there.

Blood paints his tongue when he dips beneath her collar.

"You've never let me bite you like that?" He smiles against her.

"So, what? Does that make you his mate, now?" He questions cautiously.

"Nah, just means he was really happy with me. Turians scent their mates first, then mark, jackass," she replies nonchalantly.

He pulls her beneath him, settling between her thighs, "You know a lot about them. What's up with that?"

"Yeah," she sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose.

"I know that Salarians don't really have fucking bits but a cloaca. That Quarian females have a double clit and if you don't stimulate both during sex she won't get pregnant. Also Asari are built more like a flower a la Georgia O'Keefe. Maybe if you picked up books with more words than pictures you'd know that as well. Besides I'm curious and want to understand them," she finishes with a hint of exasperation, closing her eyes.

"Sounds like you're still mad at me. Are you?" He asks, suddenly very serious.

"Hmmm, you dumped me bare assed on the cargo hold floor. I mean really, the nastiest place in the entire ship, then hell yeah I'm still just a bit upset about that."

Her voice is serious but her eyes are laughing.

"I thought it was about not letting you come, but I'm sorry for dropping you on the floor of the nastiest place in the entire ship," he says softly while running his lips over the scar that bisects her brow.

"I'd have thought the unisex bathroom would hold that honor," he laughs.

She shakes her head slowly, as an old nervous habit shows itself.

He watches as her fingers work at a length of her hair, winding it between her fingers.

"Have you seen anyone cleaning the cargo bay? Shit comes in, shit goes out and no one thinks to clean it. It's like there's an unsaid agreement that the cargo bay is just going to be dirty," she replies her eyes unfocused.

He watches her yawn, his mind is in the gutter as really wishes his cock was the thing stretching her lips.

When she covers her mouth with the back of her hand, he notices something he's missed all this time.

There; on the inside of her wrist, in delicate script is the date and time of his, their birth.

"When did you get that?" He asks quietly, holding her arm in place.

"The night they separated us. I was shipped back to the Citadel to wait for my new post. I found an artist down in the lower wards."

She rotates her wrist inward and lifts her head to plant a kiss across the ink.

"I realized, then, that I didn't just love you but that I was in love with you. The guy thought it was strange that I was getting my birthdate tatted on my arm but he did it anyway."

As he looks at her, he realizes that this is the first time since they'd found each other that she has displayed any softness or vulnerability.

He'd realized long before they were separated that he'd loved and was in love with her but back then he just hadn't known how to tell her.

She shifts beneath him and he lifts his weight allowing her to roll onto her side.

He curls into her, listening to the beat of her heart as she drapes her limbs over him.

Seconds later the cadence of her breathing changes and she's asleep.

When he tightens his arm around her, she smiles then sighs contentedly.

"I love you too," he whispers into the quiet room, watching as the bedside clock ticks away the hours.


	5. Broken

When he awakens; she's already gone, he opens his omni tool and pings her but gets no answer.

He grabs a quick shower, dresses in his BDU's and heavy boots and leaves the cabin.

It's still early enough to grab breakfast, so he sits down to eat.

Major Alenko joins him and he makes a joke about the amount of food the man is packing away.

It's usually something he does with Adan but she isn't here right now.

The major immediately begins to defend his appetite when Declan hold up his hands.

"It's a joke, Alenko. I've seen Adan put down two porterhouses with a three loaded baked potatoes, salad and all the other fixings and ask for dessert afterwards. I know you guys need the calories, I'm just trying to break the tension here," he offers.

The major takes a couple of bites of his eggs, his face reads that he's considering his thoughts before he answers.

"I didn't realize there was any tension between us. Anything I can do relieve it?" Alenko asks quietly.

Declan is unsure if what he's hearing beneath the words is there, so he ignores it.

"What I mean Kaidan...do you mind me calling you Kaidan?" He gives the man a wry smile.

The biotic shakes his head, as a ghost of a smile curves his lips and his warm brown eyes never leaves DeClan's.

"I've noticed that you and the crew seem more comfortable talking to Adan," DeClan says giving the man an opening.

While waiting DeClan takes a sip of his coffee before pushing the plate away, the utensils placed neatly in the center.

"Adan, I mean Commander … well, look it's just that the S1 is a more approachable then you. She engages us. I mean..she seems to go out her way to get to know us. She's even got the Spectre to laugh and stop hovering around Joker and I on the bridge."

The major shrugs his shoulders before continuing, "We know it's probably part of her job but she doesn't make it feel like part of her job."

Declan laughs, he really likes hearing that his hard as nails lover is well liked by the crew.

"So you're saying I'm unapproachable?" DeClan finally asks.

Kaiden holds up his hands, "Not at all, but we've noticed that you've taken on most of Anderson's duties, so there's a silent agreement not to bother you, that's all."

Declan laughs, "Got it, by the way, have you seen Adan?"

The biotic nods, "Last I heard she was down in the armory working on some mods. The entire ship is a bit tense about Eden Prime but no one can say why."

Declan nods as he slides his chair back and rises, "Nice talking to you, Kaidan. Let's do it again."

"Yeah, uh sure," the major answers before he resumes eating; watching as the man placed his dishes into the auto cleaner, long strides carries him around the divider.

He finds Adan exactly where Kaidan mentioned, except she's not alone.

The Turian is at her side, their heads bent together over the weapons bench; currently littered with weapons in varying stages of being dismantled and mods.

As he approaches, he hears her speaking, "I don't know who thought bullets were no longer needed but you can give me a .50 cal anytime."

"It's my understanding that bullets are expensive," the Turian's harmonics rumble as he leans over Adan.

"Bullets are expensive but thermal clips overheat, their load is low and despite them being interchangeable they're pieces of shit therefore making our weapons pieces of shit," she counters, quickly assembling the weapon with the new mods and opening her omni-tool to check the specs.

"Besides there is nothing like a round mushrooming and turning the back of your target's head into bloody mist." She laughs as she cradles the sniper rifle before fitting it into the pocket of her shoulder, dropping her eye to the targeting scope.

She scans the room landing on him as he leans against Mako.

"DeClan," she greets him before turning to hand the weapon to the Spectre.

The Turian mimics her movement.

He purrs appreciatively after pulling the trigger and handing the weapon back to her; identifying all the modifications made, "Lighter, reduced the f.p.s., on the trigger, upgraded the scope, increased thermal clip size."

She lifts a brow, "I thought Turian's were supposed to be first class when it came to weapons and mods, Nihlus?"

DeClan watches the interaction.

The Turian has obviously spent a lot time around and with humans because he's picked up some of our quirks, DeClan notes as the Turian's brow plate rises when he looks down on her.

His mandibles flutter, "Your point, Commander?"

She lifts the weapon again, her target is the Turian who laughs when a painting laser appears at his groin then slowly travels up to stop at his forehead.

"Heart rate elevated, increase in respirations, dilation of pupils..." The laser travels back down to his cod piece.

"Hmm, turgid. Why? Nihlus, if I didn't know any better I'd think you were happy to see me," her voice is sugary and rich with a mock southern accent.

She lowers the weapon as DeClan approaches but it doesn't stop the Spectre from speaking his mind.

"I have a weakness for women who can handle weighty weapons. Especially a woman who does so with confidence and competence. You owe me Adan. I; unlike most Turians, am not fond of savoring the last heat sink. Two hours, no longer. You do not want to be my prey," his harmonics are dark with unsaid things.

His eyes never leave hers, "Commander Shepard, It's an honor to finally meet you. I look forward to working with you soon."

DeClan can see exactly why the Turian is attractive to his sister.

He notices a few of the traits he keeps hidden within himself and he wonders, just for a moment, if he'd be able to handle him.

"Commander," the Turian's voice pulls him from his thoughts.

He find himself face to face with the Spectre, bright jade eyes on his as he growls, "I'm sure I can help you work out your tension as well."

The Spectre's gaze drops to his crotch and back up to his eyes before the male leaves him and Adan alone.

"Wow," he laughs.

"I was wondering if the wood in your pants was for me, but," she wipes her hands on a towel before crossing her arms under her breast, "I'm sure it's for the Turian that just left here."

She leans a hip against the work bench, "Should I go and fuck your Navigator?"

He isn't sure what it is he hears in her voice, so he asks, "Is that jealousy I hear or are you being territorial?"

She gives a short jerk of her chin, "No, just realizing that the rules you impose apply to only me."

Her eyes bore into him for several minutes, then she walks away.

"What in the hell are you talking about Daron?" He calls out.

He grins as she's stopped in her tracks at the mention of her first name, her back stiffens and shoulders square before she turns.

"Aiden, this is about," she looks around to see the requisition officer leaning against the bulk head.

"You," she calls, putting the young man's head on a swivel that finally rotates toward her voice, "Yeah. You. Get the hell out of here."

The young man disappears onto the lift before she returns her attention to him.

"Calling me by my first name is not going to get you out of this. The last time we were separated was because of shit. Just. Like. This."

She jabs a finger at him while her legs closes the distance.

"Preston. Flight control. Citadel. Two year relationship. Then you and I started messing around," her voice is tight with anger.

"Our first rule was that we wouldn't fuck with each other's significant others. I left your girl alone, sent her home to you after that bitch climbed into my bed. The second was that our private lives and professional lives were separate. Third, who we dealt with outside of our _relationship_ was off limits to either of us."

Her eyes shade to a hard blue, as her voice drops to a harsh whisper, "You changed the rules when you slept with Preston. One disagreement and you help her over it and me by fucking her and you didn't stop there. No, you kept fucking her and me. I'd be on duty and you'd be in bed with her..."

He is surprised when she dashes away the tears that darken her lashes before she continues.

"Now you want Nihlus too? I was just wondering if I that means the rules no longer apply and I can fuck your little Navigator. I mean really DeClan, if I fuck Alenko, are you going to want a piece of that too?"

Her voice is shaky, as it rises in her anger, "How does this work Aiden? Am I allowed to just fuck you and you can fuck whoever you want or do your rules apply to the both of us?"

He grabs her arms to shake her and realizes that it is a mistake much too late as her biotics tosses him away.

His back hits the wall and he uses every bit of strength not to fall to the floor as he grunts between clenched teeth, "So this is your plan?"

He braces himself, hands going to his knees, "You want to start a fight before we get to Eden Prime, so you can be pissed off and not worry?"

He has no where to go, as her fist descends and then stops so close to his nose that the nail of her thumb scrapes across the bridge.

Biotics crackle when she replies; "This isn't about me DeClan. This is about you not respecting the rules that we put in place and expecting me to do so without question. If you need to fuck Nihlus to have a piece of me, go ahead. But know that if you cross this line a second time, I won't forgive you no matter how much I love or am in love with you."

When she uses a charge to cover the area between him and the lift, he realizes that there is a line he hadn't known existed and that for the second time since they've found each other, she's broken his damn ribs.


	6. Across the Breach

"Sparring," is his excuse to Chakwas, who gives him a hard stare as he peels out of his top to roll onto the cold table, eyes closing to avoid any other questions.

He's ordered to spend the night in the med bay and when he returns to their quarters the following night, she's back in the top bunk, glasses on her nose with a book on upraised thighs.

"Can we talk?" he asks when she removes her glasses, tucking them and the book into a drawer before turning onto her side.

"Nothing to talk about DeClan. I thought I was very clear the last time we _talked. _Now leave me alone. You were laid up in med bay while the rest of us were getting ready for the next mission and I'm tired."

Over the years he's learned the inflections of her voice and unlike the other day he accepts that this is not a battle he will win.

He also knows that if he pushes she will find somewhere else to sleep and it doesn't matter where they are right now or how mad she is at him, he needs her close.

She throws herself into her work the following days.

There's a PT test, weapons training and qualification, she even has Joker put the ship through it's paces, as well as simulation training to test the safety harnesses and the ship's drive core capacity.

Every night she showers with the rest of the crew, climbs into her bunk and falls asleep without talking to him.

They are a week into their disagreement when he corners her in the cabin, his mouth going to hers as he whispers, "I'm sorry Adan."

He teases the corner of her mouth, uses his teeth to tug at her lower lip trying to coax her into the kiss, pulling out all the tricks he knows she likes but she doesn't rise to the bait.

"You're not sorry," she whispers when he buries his face in her neck. "You've never liked when I've called you on your bullshit and you figure we can kiss and make up and all will be right in your world."

He cups her face, "The last time we did this they separated us. I don't want that to happen again and I didn't realize that you might really feel something for him. I thought it was casual."

Her eyes have taken on an icy blue tint he's never seen as she speaks, "Have you known me to sleep with someone more than once and it be casual?"

He searches her eyes, "No, but then you said you were serious about Preston yet you weren't fucking her but someone else and me. You were serious about that person, not that little girl. You were so serious about that person you didn't tell me who they were."

He steps back out of her space, "You were so serious that I didn't hear anything about that person and when you took off for wherever the hell you met him, you didn't even tell me."

He runs both hands over his head, the stubble rasping through the cabin, "Why, out of all the men on this ship? Why him Daron?"

Her face softens, eyes warming as her lips pull into a smile.

"He sees me when he looks at me. Not Commander Shepard, not the Butcher and not the ruthless tactician and biotic that go with those titles. He sees me; Daron Adan Shepard. He gets me DeClan. Do you know how that makes me feel? That I don't have to pretend that I'm soft. That I don't have to pretend to be prey. To dress up, twirl my hair and giggle," her gaze is unfocused when she finishes.

He's never told her but he sees her, too.

She was never one to wear makeup.

She doesn't need it, her only concession is the red tinted lip balm that graces her lips.

Dark red eyebrows wing above wide eyes with irises that shift and change to give away her every emotion and mood.

She's muscular without losing the softness at her breast and hips, despite all those physical things it's her hair.

It was her hair that caught his attention.

He'd fallen in love with her hair first then her.

Now all genetic defects are removed after conception, red hair is a defect and to find it is a rarity.

Adan's is a titan red with deep gold and copper highlights that falls down her back in a riot of waves and spirals to rest beneath the curve of her ass.

When they are together, her hair is an entity apart from her.

It is a warm weight that caresses him, a veil or warm hands when they kiss and when he buries his hands in it, it spirals and wraps around them and his wrists as if it's alive.

She has used it to hold him tighter or to push him farther away if that is what she wanted.

Her eyes follow his hand, then meet his when he strokes then buries his hand into her hair.

"I see you Adan, I've always seen you," his voice is soft.

With a shake of his head he makes an admission that scares him, "I don't know how to show you without showing it to everyone else. He, our father, taught you how and when to either peek or drop your mask completely."

He cards a hand through her hair before he cups her head, his lips close to hers, "Especially when you want and need to let those you care about inside it. I don't know how to do that, it's all or nothing with me. I thought that was what you loved about me."

She closes her eyes, hiding behind her lids, as she whispers.

"No DeClan, I don't choose to love bits and pieces of you. I love all of you and unlike you I love you enough to know when to let you go. I would be happy to have you all to myself, but what I know and you've seemed to forgot is that someone will eventually figure it out. Someday, they will find out that we know and will never approve of us and neither will the Alliance. I have learned to share, you not so much."

She avoids his stare when her eyes open, "I have to go. Nihlus..."

He shutters his pain behind hard eyes that try to capture her own.

She smiles at the floor, a blush rising, "It's been a week since, well."

She slips beneath his arm, her hair trailing through his fingers, "Good night DeClan."


	7. Voyeur

He waits several minutes to be sure she won't return before taking a seat at his desk.

He hacks the feed of nearly a dozen cameras to locate the ones in the Spectre's cabin just as she enters, locking the door behind her before she goes to him.

There is no bunk only an arrangement of large pillows that DeClan assumes is his bed in the corner of the room.

A weapons bench occupies the far wall and a desk and chair makes up the rest of the furniture.

He's been waiting for her, if his greeting says anything.

Gloved taloned hands cup the entirety of her head to tip her face up into his kiss.

She laughs against him as his mandible flutters with unheard words while the Spectre removes his gloves.

DeClan watches as another man undresses his lover.

As taloned hands, then another's mouth caress; no, worship every inch of skin exposed until she stands naked before Nihlus.

The Spectre removes his armor to reveal broad shoulders, a slim waist and wiry, muscled limbs.

Her hands glide over the oxblood colored plates, nails press into the thin seams between them causing the Turian's head to fall back.

When she puts her mouth to his waist, a taloned hand wraps into her hair, guiding her down to her knees as his cock emerges.

The other hand strokes along her jaw to coax her mouth open.

Both men watch as she takes him in before the Turian's hips rock a slow dance in and out of her.

DeClan has never told her how beautiful she is when she's done the same for him.

Watching her now.

Seeing only her cheeks and throat working as she takes the entirety of Nihlus into her, he finally understands what it is that draws her to Nihlus.

He allows her submit in a way that doesn't diminish who and what she is.

He becomes angry and slams a fist against the desk as he realizes that she is submitting to this male in a way she's never done for or with him.

His attention is drawn back to the screen.

With the first jerk of the Spectre's hips, DeClan's eyes are draw to her throat while her cheeks and ears flush with the tell tale sign of an impending orgasm.

By the second jerk, she's touching herself but stops, lacing her hands behind her back after Nihlus looks down at her, his hand tightening in her hair.

Her breast heave while the flush deepens and her hips match the rhythm of the Turian's cock.

The Spectre asks her something, earning a shake of her head then a nod.

He helps her from her knees, pushing her toward the weapon's bench.

She lifts herself onto it, sitting with her back against the wall and thighs spread.

Within the four walls of the Spectre's quarters the atmosphere is tense.

Since the beginning of their tryst, Adan has never made Nihlus wait.

A subtle fluttering of his harmonics, a passing glance from her and within minutes they'd find each other.

Whatever had happened between her and DeClan had broken the silent agreement between them and now a week later his nature was riding him.

"Tell me what you want Daron," The subtle purr in his voice doesn't hide the command.

"Why? If I tell you what I want, you'll just deny me," she answers, thighs coming together to hide her from his gaze.

She intrigues him.

Her fringe-hair, eyes that shift colors, and her scent, now that he's had her, has seeped into his pores haunting him even when she's not around.

His ranged laugh washes over her as he rumbles, "Open and tell me anyway."

"I need you. Now, however you'll take me," she moans, as her thighs part and a hand drift down to caress the slick lips of her sex while the other cups and kneads the heavy weight of her breast.

"And yet it appears that you don't need me at all. To the edge Daron and not over. Understood?" He orders before dropping into the pillows that make up his bed.

She teases herself, the flush that stains her skin looks hot enough to burn if touched.

Her breath devolves into throaty moans, then quiet mewls that she cuts off by setting her teeth into her lower lip.

The scent of her arousal fills the air as her fingers quicken then slow while her hips rising to press into her palm.

He's learned that this indicates her control.

More accurately how much further he'd have to strip her of it before she releases the reins she hold so tightly.

The camera opposite his bed gives away the fact that they are being spied upon.

His omni tool alerted him the minute it came online and from which terminal it was activated.

Although he has no objection, he is sure she will not feel the same.

"Close," she cries drawing him from his thoughts.

Her fingers disappear yet the flush hasn't deepened nor have the tell tale beads of sweat that gild her skin appeared.

"Liar," he growls, snapping her eyes open as she realizes that on silent feet he's reached the bench.

She cries out when her hips are jerked clean from the bench, bowing her back as he drags her to his mouth, where his tongue completes the job she's failed to do.

She is different from the other human women he's been with.

There is none of the makeup, the overly perfumed skin and hair.

Her sex is free of hair and smooth, leaving her open to everything from his fingers to the head of his cock or the flat of his tongue.

When she is beyond the veil of her own control, she becomes so slick that that smooth expanse of skin glistens with her own spend and sweat and he can draw taloned digits through it to bring the taste of her to his mouth while fucking her.

Her thighs tightening around his head is not a sign of her impending orgasm but a tell nonetheless.

It betrays her, broadcasting the fact that she is holding still, an attempt to pull away.

During the month that they've been together like this, she always fights the first orgasm.

Her eyes are closed tight, fist clenched while her teeth tear into her lip to hold her cries.

He knows she fights to maintain control, to not appear soft, vulnerable, to be diminished even in bed.

He takes pleasure in destroying that hard won control.

He steals it from her now by guiding her with his hands, fucking her against his tongue until she takes up the rhythm on her own.

Her hands go to his and she tries to pull away but a hand on her belly and another beneath her ass holds her in place.

He nips at the engorged bud throbbing against his mouth plates then laves it with his tongue.

A twirl against it and her opening wrenches a curse from her lips.

"Let go Daron," he whispers into her thigh, setting his sharp teeth there.

Her last defense appears, biotics crackle against his mandibles, sparking beneath his fingers.

He groans at the shock he's delivered when he sucks the turgid pearl into his mouth and dips two thick fingers into her sex while working her against him.

"I can't! Please, I can't," she cries on hard moan when he rumbles against her.

From his own cabin, DeClan watches as Adan's biotics pulse in time with her impending orgasm.

It starts as a faint glow then grows until it is strong enough to put the entire room in a blue shift as bright as the Normandy's own emissions.

He watches as Nihlus' grip tightens around her waist, whether he's holding her to him or up, DeClan's not sure.

A look at her face reveals eyes wide open, the irises burning the same bright blue as her biotics, lip torn and beginning to weep blood between clenched teeth and hands knotted into the length of her hair.

Nihlus releases her clit, lowers her hips, his fingers busy within her.

Searching, seeking and finding what he requires to push her over.

He presses slow and deep, once then twice before she clamps down on him with a hard exhale through her nose.

He returns her sex to his mouth, tongue moving counter to his fingers.

A straight forward rhythm would keep her on edge, this pushes her over.

The keening wail is music to his ears as she finally submits to the siren call of his hand and tongue.

Fingers wet with her spend go into his mouth, cleaning them as she rolls up, arms going around his neck, legs locking around his waist.

He carries her to his nest.

He goes to his back, sliding her down onto him to coax her hips into a rocking glide that tips his head back in pleasure.

Her own wetness, reduces the viscosity of his own lube, it's made to cushion and secure him in the slick channel of a Turian female, but with her it creates a delicious friction that's enhanced by the mouth of her womb tripping over the head of his cock with every move.

Now broken of her control, she releases so easily, her hips grinding down to trip her clit over the open plates between them.

She's always stopped when the first quake of her womb washes over her, taking up a staccato rhythm that holds her and him on the edge, until he winds his length within her.

Tonight, she rocks into it.

Lifting her ass, she slams down onto him then grinds herself against the lip of his open plates before working her way to the tip of his cock.

"Daron, I am not him. Be here with me or there with him but not both," he rumbles, a hand tightening along her waist.

There is a pause in the snap of her hips, as her eyes open and she peers through tear thickened lashes.

"Fuck me Nihlus. Don't do this, don't make love to me," she whispers.

He shakes his head before lifting her from him.

He tucks her into his body, curving around her to hide her from the camera.

"You are not ready for that or me right now. Tell me why?"

Her hair is a trembling veil over her face as she answers, "He wants you too."

When he tries to pull her hair out of her face, she shakes her head.

"What of your agreement? It seemed very clear to me that the two of you had a simple accord. He has his navigator and you, I," he asks quietly.

She turns away from him, "We did until that day in the cargo hold. I know what that look means. I've seen it once but..."

The mass of her hair shimmers in the dim light as she shakes her head, her voice a whisper, "He wants the piece of my heart that I've given to you. If he fucks you then he has us."

"If he fucks me...I am many things but I am not a bottom, Adan," he laughs while lifting her hair as he turns her into him.

He rises to his knees, tucking her beneath him while spreading her thighs and hilting himself inside her.

As her breath hitches, he speaks, "He can only take what you allow."

Her head rocks back as he withdraws, hips rising to meet his return.

"I can only take what you allow me, what you give me," he croons when she shudders around him.

He watches her nipples tighten, her face relaxing as pleasure heavy lids go half mast over jade irises that match his own.

"What will you give me?" He rumbles when her hands go to his waist and calves lock at his hips pulling him deeper.

A swirl of his hip tips her closer toward a release that he withholds from her.

Her sharp little nails dig into the sensitive skin of his waist, as she tries to rush him toward her release.

"Nihlus!" she cries with the next thrust, rising on her elbows to watch him disappear, glistening with her own wetness, back inside her body.

"What will you give me?" He repeats; a thumb going to her clit and his talons to the turgid tip of a nipple.

Wet heat engulfs him as she trembles beneath him, her eyes wide and blind with pleasure.

"Me," she whispers rocking in time with him while her thighs fall apart to give him more access to her.

"Spirits, please!" She pleads, her hands leave his waist.

One goes to her hair and the other between them to his hand.

He placates her, allowing her the appearance of control, "Come for me."

Her breath leaves her on a sigh when he allows her to guide him into the rhythm she needs to coax her body to his call.

Her skin takes on a deep flush that colors her from the tips of her breast, up her neck and to the shell of her ears.

She glows in the dim lights as sweat beads then slips off her skin.

He punctuates every gasp of breath with a thrust that becomes harder and harder until she is screaming her release beneath him and begging for the next one and his as well.

He pushes her until she has no voice left before he joins her, bracing his weight on one hand while muffling a roar between the weight of her breasts.

Her nimble fingers go to the sensitive skin beneath his fringe, stroking and petting him.

Back in their cabin, DeClan finishes himself, covering his hand with his own get as Nihlus presses his forehead to Adan's and shields her from the camera with his own body.

Nihlus allows her an hour of sleep before he wakes her.


	8. CheckMate

With gentle hands he rolls to her knees, yet her hands are urgent as he mounts her, "Hard Nihlus, take me hard."

The first and second thrust lift her knees until he holds her in place, driving into her as she slicks around him.

She is tighter, shallower like this and he lands against the mouth of her womb with every stroke, her moans become throaty growls in her need.

A hand taps a frantic rhythm against the pillows, announcing her quickly rising orgasm and he finishes her with grinding rolls of his hips.

His talons skim along her back, trailing over the healed marks he'd left before.

"Do it," she croons as she arches into the sharp points, moving on him with exaggerated strokes that skip his talons over her skin causing welts to rise.

"Soon," he soothes, slowing his pace yet rocking her with thrusts that nearly free him from her clenching sheath before sealing them together again.

The sound of flesh coming together draws DeClan from his sleep.

The damn Spectre is on to him.

He's turned on the speakers while the two siblings were asleep.

Grunts and hungry mewls punctuated by wet strokes assault his ears while his eyes take in his lover being rutted upon.

A hand buried in her hair turns her head toward the camera, her irises are tinted a clear aqua, face slack in pleasure, mouth open.

The skin at her hip is abraded, there's a dual trio of angry red welts along her back.

His cock springs to life when her pleasure husked voice fills the cabin, "Harder, Nihlus...please!"

"You never answered my question, Daron," the Spectre's voice growls setting DeClan's own cock throbbing.

"What will you give me?" Nihlus asks again, increasing his pace to match her panting breaths.

DeClan's cock is forgotten, he needs to hear this.

He knows that Adan will honor her word no matter how or when it is given and he hopes to hell he hasn't lost her to the Spectre.

"Me," she gasps beneath him.

"Say it again," he croons, his head going back, mandibles tight against his face.

"I to you and you to I," she cries out, stilling the Turian's movements.

DeClan watches as the Turian leaves his sister, turning her onto her back, "Daron, you do not know what you are asking."

Her eyes have become a clear silver, belying her intent.

She knows what she is asking.

She pulls him into her, "I to you and you to I. My sword yours and yours mine. The Spirits are our witness, no others are needed."

For several minutes he doesn't move or answer her.

"I've made a mistake," she draws away, freeing herself from him.

Turning her head, she throws an arm over her face to hide the lone tear that courses over the bridge of her nose.

The silence is broken by a harmonic chiming as he rubs his mandibles across Adan's breast, collarbone, up both sides of her neck then across her cheeks before gathering her up into his arms.

"I to you and you to I. My sword yours and yours mines. The Spirits are our witness, no others are needed." He repeats, his harmonics rich, ringing the last words with a closing finality.

One hand wraps Adan's legs around his hips, the other holds her to him.

"There will be blood, pain and pleasure, do you accept? Do you submit to this, to me?" He asks his forehead to hers.

"Yes, to this and to you," she answers her voice strong and clear.

There is a sharp cry that becomes a low moan when he lays her back into the pillows, his hips working in short, hard snaps.

"Nihlus," her voice drops below the speakers range but it picks up the Turian's response, "And I you, Mate."

"Where shall I mark you?" He coos lifting up to bare Adan to the camera, his eyes bore through the lens as if he can see DeClan.

Her entire body is flushed, the hair that frames her face are springy ringlets that stick to her skin.

Her breast bounce with each stroke, the nipples tight points that beg to be teased, which the Turian does with expert familiarity, arching her back.

He leaves her, lifting her hips to his mouth, his long tongue appears to lap at the lips of her sex before parting them to reveal the pearl that is nestled there.

With a quirk of his mandibles he takes it into his mouth.

"Everywhere, anywhere," she screams bucking into his mouth.

Her entire body trembles as she fills his mouth.

He takes his time lapping away every drop that she spills for him, winking at the camera as he slides her onto the expanded girth of his length.

The sound is cuts once Adan is fully impaled on the Turian, her head rocking back, offering her neck to razor sharp teeth.

The male turns her chin with his own, sinking his teeth into the flesh between her neck and shoulder, pulling Adan onto him with each stroke growing progressively harder.

She holds fast to him, her body enveloped in the tell tale firefly glow that reveals how far her control has slipped.

The mental dam she obsessively maintains has broken, bleeding over her and her lover.

Familiar lightening trips over Nihlus' body.

They start small, increasing into a full blown barrier when Adan's head drops back.

Nihlus croons his mating song to the woman in his arms as her voice breaks becoming hiccuping sobs with her orgasm.

"Are you ready for me, mate?" He asks rolling the title over his tongue.

"Since you asked the first time. I trust you." She presses her lips to his mouth, emitting a croon of her own when he slips his tongue into her mouth.

There is a small whimper when his cock thickens even further, the ridge and nodes swelling to lock him in place.

The sounds of discomfort give way to moans of pleasures when several nodes rise against the wonderful spot that sets her off around him.

Her head falls onto his shoulder.

Her body shudders as the aftermath of one orgasm becomes a full blown release that nearly steals her conciousness.

"I am yours," he purrs into her flesh as he fills her.

The purr becomes a roar when she closes around him.

In seconds her breath falls into the even cadence he recognizes as sleep.

He lays her down, over loads the security camera with his omni-tool and draws the thick curtain around his nest before joining Adan in sleep.


	9. Morning

She awakes to warm, gentle touches.

Nihlus has carried her to the shower in his room, seating himself on the floor with her in his lap.

He's settled them on the far back wall just outside the shower's spray so he can clean the wounds he'd inflicted.

His touch is careful at the mark at the crook of her neck.

"Please, don't fuss," she yawns against the back of her hand.

"It is our nature to fuss over our mates. I'm proud that you are mines and bear my mark."

Her eyes are filled with a mischievous light, "Prove it."

"You are insatiable," he growls as she straddles him.

"Sounds like you're complaining Spectre Kryik, I can take my wares elsewhere," she laughs grabbing his fringe.

"Not unless you want casualties on this vessel," he groans as she rocks over him.

She is close, so very close when her omni-tools beeps:

"Commander, you're needed in your office, ASAP," Jokers quips.

"It will keep," Nihlus growls as he thrums within her, "I will not."

"Then take what you need," she purrs, wrapping her legs at his waist when his hands go beneath her ass and he stands, bracing her back against the wall.

He settles her shoulders agains the sweating wall and gives her a wink before he drills into her.

His orgasm hastens her own and they come together with only his strength holding them up in the steam filled chamber.

He purrs in contentment when she shudders against him, her arms falling from his neck.

He bathes her, then himself, dries them off together and helps her back into her pajamas.

"I will see you later or sooner depending on your appetite," he laughs, planting a kiss on her lips before shooing her out the door.

DeClan greets her in the cabin with a mug brimming with coffee.

"In case you didn't get much sleep," he offers, leaving her alone to get dressed.

She has to take her her time undressing as parts of her body voice their complaints now that the after glow has receded.

She stands before the mirror, her fingers and eyes linger over the teeth marks that travel up her neck, to the abraded skin between her thighs.

Her hands trace over the long finger shaped bruises tipped with thin scratch marks that will peek over the waistband of her cargos.

With a shrug she dresses.

For a brief second she worries about the mark at the left side of her neck but once her over top is buttoned, the mark is covered.

She braids her hair and wraps it into an elegant bun against the back of her head.

She finishes the lukewarm coffee and heads to the bridge.

When she arrives Joker has just completed the jump through the mass relay.

Nihlus and DeClan are both over his shoulder.

Each one tossing out their own hard version of a compliment that earns a gimlet stare from Kaidan.

"You're fucking fantastic, Joker. Someone else would have had us all over the place," she offers from behind Kaidan's chair.

Nihlus' mandibles quirk in a smile as his eyes slide over to her on his way out.

Joker chirps the comm, alerting Anderson of our ETA and that Nihlus is on his way.

She coughs into her fist to cover the laugh when the man barks back that Nihlus was already there, "Tell Shepard to meet us in the comm."

"Which one," Joker asks, his face animated with his aggravation.

"Both of them," Anderson snarls before killing the connection.

"You heard him Double mint twins, get going," Joker snipes while watching both Kaidan and DeClan's face twist in confusion.

"Brand of chewing gum from the 20's, their commercials featured two busty, bouncing blondes. Let's go." Adan clarifies before trotting down the throat of the ship.


	10. You can't take it back

When he arrives in the comm room, the Spectre is fingering the loose strands at her temples, "I have always been curious about the color of your hair," he looks over at DeClan, "and yours, it's an anomaly of sorts, no?"

"Genetic defect is more accurate, most are filtered upon conception. My mom decided it wasn't important," DeClan offers.

"My father's a red head. It would be kind of wrong to remove something native to himself," Adan laughs, attempting to break the tension rising in the room.

Nihlus nods, "It's good that the two of you arrived first, I wanted to talk to both of you."

"About what?" They chime together.

"Yes, what is it that they want to speak to them about?" Anderson asks as the door closes behind him.

"This isn't just a shakedown for the Normandy, it's a shakedown for the two of you as well." Nihlus' gaze shifts between the two, ignoring Anderson.

Anderson interrupts and each twin's bullshit meter fly into the red before they really listen, filtering out the extraneous info; taking in only the important bits.

Each hears the words Specter, Eden Prime, Beacon and covert mission then Joker's panicked voice heralds incoming vid feed from the planet.

DeClan stays until the feed cuts off but Adan took off once she heard the panicked voice of the marine.

She returns with all her weapons in place and something new.

She's changed and upgraded her armor.

It's now a matte black, the signature N7 badge and stripe are faded with wear.

He nods his appraisal when the stripe and badge fade away as she tests her tactical cloak.

"What in the hell are we waiting on?" She asks her eyes darting between Anderson and DeClan, as Nihlus is always in armor.

"You," Anderson says his hands clasped behind his back.

"Yes, those marines need help but we are here to locate, pick up and transport a Prothean beacon back to Alliance space. That is your mission."

He turns away from the trio, "You ETA is thirty minutes, gear up and good luck."

The trio heads down to the cargo bay where Nihlus grabs his weapons, the Mattock and sniper rifle that Adan modified weeks before.

When she grabs her old Viper, Nihlus gently takes if from her and hands her another.

A quick examination of the weapon reveals it's from the HMWSR Master line of Sniper Rifles.

"Nihlus, I can't..." She starts but a shake of his head silences her.

"You can and you will. Consider it an early betrothal gift," Nihlus glances at both her and DeClan before he leaves them.

In tense silence she assists DeClan, checking the specs on his armor and weapons before sliding them onto the mag strips.

"So a betrothal gift?" His voice is tight with an emotion she can't place.

She meets his eyes, answering with a terse nod, "Can you marry me, DeClan?"

"Can he give you children, Adan?" He counters, opening his omni-tool and drawing away.

He doesn't notice the wince that pulls her mouth into a hard line as she walks away when Joker announces their approach.

Alenko, Jenkins, Nihlus and Anderson are already waiting on the open cargo door, Jenkins rattles on excitedly and Kaidan gives her a nod.

Nihlus' eyes are on her, then DeClan as he approaches, his mandibles flutter once in question.

"So Nihlus, you're going with us? This is going to be great!" Jenkins laughs.

"No, Nihlus is going to scout ahead, Alenko and Jenkins you're with the XO," Anderson corrects the young marine.

Nihlus' eyes land on DeClan then Adan, "You," he nods toward her, "with me. The rest of you, we'll see you on the far side."

The opening of the shuttle door steals DeClan's words and when she shrugs his hand from her shoulder, he wishes he could take back his hurtful words.

It's too late, she and the Turian leap off the ramp and disappear as Joker takes off for the next rondo point.


	11. Betrayal

The planet is eerily quiet.

Luminescent bodies of gas float aimlessly, the horizon is painted peaches, rusts and ambers.

"He seemed surprised by the mention of us being betrothed," Nihlus' voice breaks the silence.

With her eye to the scope she takes a deep breath and on a slow exhale squeezes the trigger, taking down her target, some type of robot she's never seen.

"First what the hell was that and he might have mentioned that I'll never be able to have children," she says thoughtfully.

"He hurt you." She'd expected a question, not a firm statement.

"Geth," he supplies as an after thought.

"I'm...Do I really seem like the mother type?" She asks from the rock she's splayed across that overlooks the colony.

She's met with several minutes of silence, so she lowers her eye to the scope, dispatching several more geth before moving to the next position.

His hand is light on her shoulder, surprising her.

"Most women don't see themselves as mothers until they become one. I'd be proud to sire children with you," his mandibles quirk.

His harmonics rumble, "Now pull your head out of your ass and let's find that beacon."

They head toward the outskirts of the colony.

She'd usually brief DeClan on the situation but given his barb earlier, she lets Nihlus handle the comm link.

She'd takes off toward the space port to recon while Nihlus relays the information to DeClan's team.

The sound of Jenkins going down hurts her heart.

The event is quickly forgotten over the sound of rapid weapons fire and the familiar hum of biotics, as she takes up a position that gives her a full view of the space port.

When Nihlus runs across the Turian, she raises her tactical cloak and creeps closer while speaking to Nihlus on their private channel, "I'm at your six, want an assist?"

He gives a terse shake of his head, "Not yet, let's see what's going on."

She watches through the scope as he leaves cover, lowering his weapon, his harmonics questioning, "Saren?"

He approaches the Turian, holstering his weapon.

"You know him?" She whispers, catching the slight nod of his head.

"Nihlus," the strange Turian answers but there is no warmth or greeting in his voice, simply an acknowledgement.

"This isn't your mission Saren. What are you doing here?" Nihlus asks of his old mentor, long time friend and ex lover.

She watches through her scope as the bare faced Saren touches Nihlus with old familiarity, as he answers, "The council thought you could use some help on this run."

He moves behind Nihlus, strange cybernetic eyes scanning the area, she is grateful for the improved tactical cloak as his gaze sweeps over her then moves on.

She flashes Nihlus once with her targeting laser, informing him of her position, now at his twelve, then moves so that the laser paints the skull of the Turian behind him.

"I wasn't expecting to find the Geth here. The situation is bad," Nihlus murmurs, his eyes on the horizon.

"Don't worry. I've got the situation under control," the Turian turns, his heavy pistol drawn and fired, dropping Nihlus.

She's pulled the trigger in time with the Turian and the round glances his shoulder, staggering him, his eyes going to where she'd once been.

He takes off toward the rail line, his robots in tow.

She quickly makes her way down to Nihlus, cradling him in her arms.

"I was too slow, I'm sorry," her fingers trace the markings that cover his face and this is how DeClan, Kaidan and the female marine: Williams, find her.


End file.
